150 Things I Am Not Allowed To Do At Hogwarts
by juhninja
Summary: Hogwarts is a school where people draw crude pictures onto sleeping kids, Hermione likes cereal, Malfoy's a jerk but that's not new, things are licked that shouldn't, Dumbledore has certain tricks, Ron likes bubbles, and a whole lot more. T for language.
1. Rule 11

**I had an idea for a story and I let my imagination run free. It's really random. Hopefully I'm just a tad funny.**

**I don't own stuff you recognize. **

**These rules are from the 150 Things I'm Not Allowed to do at Hogwarts thumbnails from this website. **

**And the link is on my profile. Take a look!**

**Enjoy!**

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Everyone hated the year that Umbridge graced Hogwarts with her wonderful presence. She was snarky, evil, and everyone (except Filch) agreed that she was a downright bitch who needed to get laid. Well - maybe Filch agreed with that last part. Oh, Merlin. Nightmares. She had so many rules and regulations. She MUST have had an abnormally large stick up her arse twenty four hours a day, eight days a week. (Don't you just love that song?) I'm sure everyone (except Filch) let go a sigh of relief (and some gas) when she left. Filch probably cried himself to sleep for a few nights. Again; nightmares.

It was odd, however, that her way of making rules had suddenly caught on. I know what you're thinking. "Umbridge? A trend setter? Next thing you know, everyone is going to start wearing pink dresses and gain five hundred pounds!" It was different though. The rules weren't issued by the professors, but by a very comically inclined group of students. In simpler terms, they were rules made by the funny kids. There were 150 rules that were made up as the school year went on. You'd think Hogwarts was dry, boring, and serious place with the scare of Voldemort, but you'd be surprised what kind of stuff happens on a daily basis.

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**Rule 11**

Seamus Finnegan fell asleep in Potions. Snape had his abnormally large nose in a book that he had received by owl as he left his class to do the potion he assigned. What the class wasn't aware of was that Snape charmed the cover of the book to make it seem like he was reading "How to Survive a Mid-Life Crisis," he was really reading "Me and My Hair, and How to Care." He glared at the book with hate when he removed the Barbie wrapping paper from it during dinner the night previous. He swore he heard snickering from the Ravenclaw table. They were going to pay. He stomped out of the Great Hall with the book in hand, intent on burning it page by page in his dark, damp, and somewhat smelly room. Oh, how he needed a girlfriend, he thought. (Or a boyfriend, some students and teachers speculated.) He opened the accursed book and held a page with his thumb and forefinger determined to enjoy the ear pleasing rip until he read what was on the page.

Wait, we were talking about Seamus. RIGHT. Seamus Finnegan fell asleep in Potions with Snape reading some prank book that was probably the best book he could ever receive. Not many people noticed or cared that Finnegan fell asleep, but the one person who did notice and did care was Gregory Goyle. He turned his obese head to his left and nudged Crabbe awake. He awoke with a snort and lazily opened his eyes. "Huh?" he muttered incoherently.

Goyle grunted, pointing his head and raising his eyebrows toward Seamus. Crabbe replied with "Ahh!"

"Mhm," Goyle hummed. This wordless, and very creepy, exchange of noises, although very stupid, lit up two very dusty light bulbs in two buffoons' heads. Crabbe opened his book bag, stuck his hand in, and rummaged through it. He didn't have much luck with the first few handfuls. Instead he found a half eaten moldy sandwich ("For later," he grunted, placing it on the table), a lot of crumpled parchment, and a half eaten book. (Hey, he wasn't going to read it and he got hungry a few days previous.) "Aha!" he finally said, pulling out a black marker. Crabbe and Goyle smiled at each other. Well, 'smiled' isn't exactly the word for it. They grinned sourly at each other in attempt to look evil. God, they needed to stop worshipping Malfoy and his narcissistic ways.

They looked left and right, as if trying to cross a street, trying to make sure Snape wasn't watching. When they were satisfied, they tip toed their way towards the sleeping Irish boy. Their attempts to be sneaky, however, were futile. They didn't really tip toe; it was more of a muffled stomp. Can you say earthquake?! Said earthquake did not awaken the target, though.

Crabbe and Goyle (such horrid names, really) finally reached Seamus, out of breath, and their heart rates pumping fast. Disgusting. They should have taken that gym membership offer they received by owl as a prank, not burn it in the fireplace. What idiots. Goyle snatched the marker from Crabbe, and waved his free hand in front of Seamus's face to make sure he wasn't awake. The Irish boy snored lightly, and Goyle was satisfied. He uncapped the marker and started to draw.

Several minutes later, Snape glanced up from his extremely interesting book and noticed the enormous pigs, Crabbe and Goyle, out of their seats, crouched over a napping Finnegan. "Crabbe! Goyle!" he barked, slamming his book onto the table. "Sit your fat arses down before I make you."

Crabbe and Goyle whimpered and went back to their seats as the class roared into laughter from the Potions master's remark. "Finnegan!" he screamed. Seamus woke with a start and blinked rapidly, taking in his surroundings. "10 points from Gryffindor for sleeping in class."

Seamus was angry, but didn't show it. Instead, he rubbed his eyes, still heavy with sleep. When everything looked crystal clear, he started to put his head down when he noticed…

"Who the hell drew a penis on my arm?!?!?!" he yelled, trying to rub it off. The class again erupted into laughter as Seamus angrily rubbed at his arm.

"A what?!" Crabbe said. "It's supposed to be the Dark Mark!" The laughter multiplied exponentially. "What the hell, Goyle?! How do you screw up like that?" Crabbe yelled.

"I thought it was a pretty good Dark Mark…" Goyle said quietly. Crabbe groaned and rested his head in his arms on the desk.

"Shut up and get back to work, you swines," Snape growled. The whole room went silent. Except for…

CRASH!!!

Crabbe and Goyle fell to the floor in a big pile, landing on the broken splints of wood that were once their chairs. Crabbe's face just so happened to be precariously placed by Goyle's huge bottom when Goyle let a long one rip. (For those of you who don't know, that means he farted.)

"20 points from Slytherin for damaging school property," Snape said, pinching the bridge of his abnormally large nose. He was dizzy. "Ugh, and another 20 points for smelling up the place. Class dismissed. I need some air."

_Rule 11; If a classmate falls asleep, I will not take advantage of that fact and draw a Dark Mark on their arm. _

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	2. Rule 17 and Rule 23

**Rules are not mine. Characters are not mine.**

**Stupid plots are mine.**

**Enjoy!  
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**Rule 17**

Hermione Granger loved cereal. It was her guilty pleasure. She wasn't the chocolate craving kind of girl. God, did anybody think about the acne chocolate causes?! She didn't splurge on candy. Again, more acne. She had enough pimples, damn it! And the sugar highs were insane! Some people loved to drink soda, or unconsciously munch on chips and other things of that sort. Hermione, however, loved cereal. She was addicted. She had always been addicted. Dry cereal, soggy cereal, crunchy cereal, hot cereal, cold cereal; she loved it all. She especially loved cereal with marshmallows in them.

One day, she received a box of cereal from her parents by owl. Hermione's eyes sparkled when she saw the red box attached to the owl's leg. It couldn't fly faster?! She stared hungrily at the box of cereal as the owl finally let go, and it dropped to the table, spilling over a bowl of soup. "HEY," cried Ron, the victim of the steaming hot assault. Hermione paid no attention to the boiled and angry Ron and ran to the box on the table. "Bitch," Ron whispered wiping at his shirt, but Hermione didn't hear.

She wrapped her arms around the box lovingly at first, which turned to a more possessive grasp. She glanced around paranoid that someone would snatch her prize from her hands. She glared around the room, as if daring someone to steal her precious box of cereal. Her eyes finally landed on a suspect, whose eyes were staring into her own, breaking the gaze to glance at the box strangled in her arms.

Hermione growled primitively at the boy. No… growled is too mild of a word. She snarled at him, baring her teeth, hiding the box from view. She didn't care how ridiculous she looked: all she cared about was her precious cereal! Was that so wrong?! Huh?!? She dared other people to piss her off even further. But she was focused on this one boy who she believed would steal her cereal. Her prime suspect.

"Keep your eyes away from my prize, you jerk," she barked. The boy just gave her a confused look, and backed off, scared.

"You're acting very strange, Hermione," the boy said quietly. "Maybe you should sit down and…"

He was interrupted by the insane girl. "Shut up, you leprechaun!"

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped. He stopped to look around the room. Everyone was staring at them. Many hid giggles and smiles behind hands. Most people openly laughed at her comment. Perfect.

He glared at her. "What the hell did you call me?" he snapped in his Irish lull.

"You heard me! Back off my cereal box, you arseface!" She slapped him, and hugged her box of cereal tighter.

He clenched his hands into fists at his sides. "I am so sick and fucking tired of people making that stupid joke! What the fuck!" He stomped out of the Great Hall. "Racists! Just because I'm Irish doesn't mean I'm after your stupid…" he trailed off muttering to himself. Once out of sight, the room erupted into laughter.

"Miss Granger!" called Dumbledore from the professors' table, silencing the rest of the room. "I'm sorry to say but … 10 points from Gryffindor for that public display of rage."

Hermione grumbled and crumbled back into her seat, opening her box of cereal. She grabbed a handful and stuffed most of it into her mouth. Many fell to the floor and on the table. She grinned. Finally, the reality of what she just did hit her like a punch in the groin. (Contrary to belief, it does hurt when you get punched in the crotch when you're a female.)

Lesson learned.

_Rule number 17; Seamus Finnegan is not after me Lucky Charms._

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**Rule Number 23**

Eyes widened in wonder and curiosity when Luna Lovegood sat with the group of children just by the Black Lake. She held a black sphere marked with an 8 surrounded in a white circle. Everyone stared as Luna whispered to herself and shook the ball angrily. She stared at it for a moment, expressed her disappointment, and repeated the process. Harry spoke first. "Uh, Luna?"

She looked up, dazed. "Yes, Harry? Oh, hello all! Beautiful day to look for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, isn't it?" Most rolled their eyes at her comment. They were used to her odd comments by now.

"What is that thing in your hands, Luna?" asked Harry. Everyone, except Hermione, was clueless as to what that black ball was. Luna smiled.

"It's a Magic 8 ball. You ask a question, and it gives you the answer. Watch," she said. "Is Ronald an insensitive jerk who cares about nobody but himself?" She shook the ball and everyone stared smiling, amazed. Well… Mostly amazed. Ron was held back by Ginny and Hermione, who suppressed their giggles.

Luna passed the ball around. "Signs point to yes," breathed Neville.

"That's amazingly accurate!" said a laughing Harry.

"Hey!" an ignored redhead barked.

"Let me try!" People were shoved aside to reach the 'magical' ball.

"Will Cho Chang say yes when I ask her out?" asked Dean Thomas.

_Outlook not so good,_ replied the ball. "Ha! Loser!" cried a jealous ex-girlfriend, Ginny.

"Bitch," muttered Dean. Ginny slapped him across the face.

"Is Hermione a virgin?" asked Parvati Patil.

_Reply hazy, try again._

Hermione went scarlet. "You don't honestly believe that stupid thing? Of course I'm a virgin!"

_Don't count on it. _Curious device, isn't it?

"Is Ginny a virgin?" a very curious Lavender Brown asked.

_Better not tell you now._

Jaws dropped, laughs escaped lips, and one face matched one's hair. "Stupid ball," said Ginny. She looked over at her brother. "Ron, breathe. Your face color clashes with your hair."

A bell signified that it was time for classes. "Hey Luna, may I borrow that for Divination?"

Luna handed the ball over to Hermione. This would be fun. Insert evil grin here.

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Hermione walked with Harry and Ron up to their annoying and completely useless Divination class. It was now or never! Hermione sat in her chair and waited for her insane teacher to enter the classroom. "Hello class!" she cried when she arrived. "Please sit for a moment while I prepare for class."

A loud and unladylike snort came from Hermione as she stood. "I'd like to have a show and tell!" said Hermione coldly as she stuck the magic eight ball in the air. "It's magical, and it's deadly accurate. Would you like me to demonstrate?"

Hermione cleared her throat unnecessarily. "Is Professor Trelawney completely bonkers?" She shook the ball.

"_Without a doubt,_ says the ball," she laughed as some students cowered in fear. If anyone was completely bonkers at that moment, it was Hermione!

"Hermione… maybe you should…" Harry started, trying to get his best friend to sit her butt in her chair and keep she mouth shut.

"Be quiet, Harry. I need to do this," was her reply. She turned back to Trelawney. "Does Trelawney have an abnormally huge stick up her arse, very similar to Umbridge?"

Shake. "_Yes."_ Hermione tilted her head back and guffawed. Hermione was on the prowl. She was going to kill this woman…'s pride. Stupid teacher! Stupid subject. UGH.

"Te…ten points fr-from Gryffindor," a frightened Trelawney said from the corner. A glare was shot at her, but before Hermione could ask the ball another question, a booming voice came from the doorway.

"Miss Granger, stop! (In the name of love…)," sang Dumbledore.

"Before you break my heart?" continued Hermione awkwardly. She gulped. "Hello Professor! May I help you?" Yeah, she was in for it big time. She did the crime, now she was going to do the time. She broke the law, and now she was going to the big house. She was going to hang out with the lowest of the low. Criminals! She was going to Azkaban for sure. Oh, fuck. She hoped someone would bail her out. If not, she hoped she didn't drop the soap!

Wait. That didn't apply to her.

Dumbledore smiled. "May I borrow that Magic Eight Ball?"

What the hell?!

_Rule Number 23; I will not bring a magic eight ball to Divination Class._

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	3. Rule 32 and Rule 39

**Rule 32**

Neville looked curiously at his pet toad, Trevor, while he sat in the Gryffindor common room. He reminisced on his history with him; he received Trevor as a gift for his 11th birthday from one of his neighbors. 6 years was an awfully long time to keep this nomadic animal. Maybe he should've gotten a cat…

Oh, never mind. Allergies. Why did he grow up to be such a sickly freak?!

He had heard stories from some Hufflepuffs about the effects of licking toads. "It will blow your mind," they said. Now, Neville wasn't really one to give in to peer pressure… Wait.

That's not true.

Neville wasn't one to give in to his curious thoughts…

That's not true either.

Anyway! Ever since that incident the week previous, Neville couldn't get one thought out of his mind;

He needed to lick Trevor to see what all this fuss was about!

So there he was, sitting in the Gryffindor common room on the couch with several of his classmates in the same room. He checked to see if anyone was watching before holding Trevor in his sweaty hands, lifting the toad to his mouth and…

He licked the ugly green creature.

Immediately, his head buzzed. He felt like a million bees were inside of his head, using it as a hive. The whole room exploded into a frenzy of colors with rainbows everywhere. The buzzing still hadn't stopped. If anything, it got louder and more chaotic. He stood up to touch the fireplace. It was just so… beautiful!

"Neville?" he faintly heard someone ask. "Are you all right?"

He turned his head and saw Ron.

Well, to be more precise… he saw five Rons.

At least, he thought it was Ron. Maybe it was Ginny… "Are you okay?" a slowed down and deep voice said, clearly coming from the mouth, but the sound was much too slow to match the speed of the lips. 'Ron's' red hair turned blue, his freckles turned black, and suddenly his five faces were pulled apart into different puzzle pieces.

Neville stumbled back and fell onto the couch. He gripped the seat cushions. Everything was vibrating madly! The whole room became his rollercoaster and he screamed in delight. The adrenaline was amazing!

Finally, the buzzing died down, the room went back to its normal red and gold color scheme and 'Ron' was one person again.

Except, when Neville returned to reality, the person wasn't Ron.

The person wasn't even Ginny.

It was Parvati Patil.

_Rule 32; I will not lick Trevor._

**[Seriously, don't do drugs.]  
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Rule 39**

Draco Malfoy was a narcissistic, conceited, self centered, evil little prick that everyone agreed needed a fucking punch in the face every time he smirked.

He knew he was an egotistical prat and he basked in the well deserved attention. He lived like that his whole life! He was the purest of the pure blood. Inbred? There was no chance of that. He was a pureblood. He was better than everyone, especially stupid little Mudblood Granger, Poor-Excuse-for-a-Pureblood Weasley, and Half-Blood-Scarhead-Who-Wouldn't-Just-Fucking-Die-and-Who-Took-Seven-Books-and-Eight-Movies-To-Kill-Some-Evil-Son-Of-A-Bitch-And-Needs-Lots-Of-Hyphens Potter.

There was no such thing as bad publicity for a Malfoy! Oh the celebrity life was wonderful.

Eyes are rolled, scoffs are coughed, and tongues are stuck out of mouths.

Whatever!

Malfoy took a stroll by himself along the halls of Hogwarts, sneering, smirking, growling, teasing, insulting, and making faces at everyone he passed by. Finally, he saw a trio of his favorite Gryffindors at a landing between staircases. He walked down to annoy the hell out of them just like his daily routine. He waved hello and said "Would you idiots like to hear a joke I heard last week?" The male two thirds of the group glared at the blonde while the remaining female third rolled her eyes.

Why were they on this landing in the first place? Hermione couldn't remember. All she knew was that Malfoy needed a life. Oh, and a punch in the face. A kick in his groin would be nice, too… Broken arm? No, too subtle. Broken leg? Yes, that works!

Hermione laughed maniacally. A pair of emerald, sapphire, and platinum eyes stared at her. OMG, Pokemon.

Cough. Moving on.

Malfoy asked in a poor-excuse-for-evil way, "How do you keep a Gryffindor in suspense?" the boys continued to state and the girl rolled her eyes once more. Malfoy walked away, never breaking the evil eye contact with the green eyes boy to raise the tension of his amazingly funny joke. They stared each other down and Malfoy continued to walk until...

"Ahh! Ugh. Fuck! Shit!" a series of curse words and painful groans escaped Malfoy's mouth in shrill, girly tones as he descended the flight of concrete stairs in a way that was the complete opposite of graceful.

When Malfoy was finally at the bottom and had stopped falling, he heard Weasley shout from his initial point, "You do know you told us that joke yesterday, right?" he didn't wait for a response, instead he heard the three Gryffindors laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh…

Malfoy was going to get his revenge on the stupid golden trio for laughing. But when he returned to his dorm, he closed the curtains to his bed, cast a silencing charm, and sobbed uncontrollably. Pfft, yeah. What a man _he _was. He had bruised his beautiful "assets" falling down those stairs and it hurt to sit, lie down, stand, or take a dump. Too bad he had forgotten he could use magic to make it go away. Then he wouldn't have had to endure a week of a bruised arse.

Haha, stupid Malfoy.

_Rule 39; Asking "How do you keep a Gryffindor in suspense?" and walking away is only funny the first time. (Unless of course you gracefully fall down a flight of stairs.)  
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**Hopefully you're not thinking what I think you're thinking. **

**I solemnly swear that I am not a druggie and that I based Neville's actions and thoughts on something I read online. I do not want you to lick toads. [And really, you're supposed to… nevermind.] Don't be stupid, kay? **

**Mischief Managed (for today).  
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**Who understood that Pokemon part? xD**

**NOW THAT WE'VE CLEARED THAT UP;**

**I hope you enjoyed that. ;D**

**Now review.**

**Please.**


	4. Rule 47

**Hi, this one's short.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Rule 47**

"Dumbledore," Ginny whispered. She had snuck into his office, tiptoed past Fawkes, crawled to his bedroom door, and opened it quietly. She silently walked over to his sleeping figure, as it was only 3:00 AM. What the heck did she want at this time of morning? "Dumbledore!" she whispered again. The sleeping figure in question didn't stir. If anything, he snored louder. Ginny huffed, annoyed that this old man wouldn't wake up. She'd have to take drastic measures.

Ginny pulled out her wand and pointed it at Dumbledore's saggy, wrinkly, old, white bearded face. She flicked her wrist, opened her mouth and…

--Poked his cheek. Dumbledore, in response to the poke, slapped his cheek. It was supposed to swat away whatever meddlesome creature touched his face but it didn't really work that way.

Dumbledore's eyes snapped open and he jerked his body up, but he clutched his covers around him. Ginny squealed in delight. "Finally!" she cried, clapping her hands. "You're awake."

The old man rubbed his eyes of sleep and yawned, still clutching the blanket. "May I help you, Miss Weasley? I was having a fairly pleasant dream about Sev--" He paused. "Oh, nevermind. But yes, what can I do for you?"

Ginny didn't respond, she just continued clapping. "Happy dance! Happy dance!" She seemed to be having seizures on her feet. Yeah, that's attractive.

"Chica estúpida," Dumbledore muttered under his breath. He was starting to get antsy. She _had_ woken him up from his wonderful dream, so she better have a good reason. "Miss Weasley, you're here for a reason! What do you want?"

Ginny stopped happy-dancing and ceased clapping. She smiled at him. "I need to ask you something," she replied with a smile on her face.

"Okay, go on," he said, anxious for this girl to get out of his room. _How the hell did she get in here anyway? _He really needed to put better locks on his doors.

"Well Parvati told me that Ron told her that Lavender told him during a snogging session that Dean said that Harry said that Padma said that Colin said that Goyle told Crabbe with a full mouth (and honestly, those boys need to learn how to chew their food. Have you seen them eat in the Great hall? Anyway, continuing) during their midnight snacking sessions that Malfoy was gallivanting in the common room saying that you had a really cool trick and I came here to ask you to show me," Ginny said all in one breath. Teenagers these days.

Dumbledore couldn't believe it. "You woke me up… for a magic trick?"

Ginny nodded, grinning.

"Which one?"

"The pointy hat trick!"

Oh, that old thing. "All right," he said. Ginny happy-danced in circles again. He added to himself, "If that'll get her out of my room…"

Dumbledore released the blanket he was clutching and stood up. Ginny looked at Dumbledore and her eyes bulged out of their sockets. "Oh my God, my eyes!" she cried, running out of the room, covering her eyes. Not a smart move, considering that she ran into the door and fell onto the ground. She was crying, rubbing her eyes of the awful sight. It was worse than watching Fluffy at feeding time. It was worse than Fang at feeding time. Hell, it was worse than Ron at feeding time!!

Ginny finally managed to get the door opened, and she ran out crying. All the while, she made plans to cut her eyeballs out to rid herself of that image.

Dumbledore didn't understand why that strange girl ran out of his room, but he thanked Merlin that she did. Children were such pests sometimes. Maybe now he could continue his dream about Seve—

Dumbledore returned to bed and finally realized why she ran out. He chuckled and felt slightly embarrassed.

He was only wearing his bright pink boxers.

_Rule number 47; I will not ask Dumbledore to show me the pointy hat trick._

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**Hi, I wrote that in ten minutes.**

**I like reviews. :3  
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	5. Rule 47 Continued

**Hi, I rush these things so I get too lazy to put real author's notes.**

**BUT. Happy belated birthday, Cuhmeel! **

**This isn't an addition to your birthday present. I'll have that chapter soon!  
**

**Beware: slightly suggestive but not really put into detail.  
**

**OH AND, major hugs, kisses, thanks, lap dances, donuts, and candy to those who read, reviewed, alerted, and favorited this story. xD (And me!)  
**

**And for those of you who prefer "appropriateness" and didn't like that thank you up there ^^, what the hell are you doing reading my fanfic?!**

**Not rude. Just saying! **

**And for those of you who aren't offended and made it this far (IT'S NOT THAT FAR):**

**Enjoy!**

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Ginny Weasley returned to the Gryffindor common room rubbing her eyes. She just _knew_ that she needed to cut her eyeballs out with a rusty spoon if fucking necessary! She hadn't taken a _long_ look but it was certainly a lot more than she really needed. Honestly, who would find that attractive?! He was so old and pale and saggy and wrinkled and hairy and old!!

She needed to get a toilet fast or Hermione and S.P.E.W. wouldn't appreciate her **spew**ing all over the common room.

She pushed the portrait open and ran to the loo. She puked and ralphed and barfed and vomited, getting the nasty liquid (and solids) out of her system into the toilet. Mostly.

Using a spell to get the taste out of her mouth, Ginny left the bathroom. She sat in her bed in attempt to sleep, but it didn't come. She just couldn't stop thinking about that imagine of Dumbledore. Good God, that was worse than Hagrid in a bikini! She gagged, but restrained herself from throwing up any more.

She waited for the rest of her roommates to wake up. Until then, she sat in her bed listening to the other girls snore. Loudly.

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Apparently, she had fallen asleep at sometime during the early morning, for someone shook her awake. "Ginny, where'd you leave off to in the middle of the night?"

Ginny snorted awake and mumbled "Wha'?" As she gained consciousness, she rubbed her eyes and stared at Hermione.

"Where—did---you---go---last—night—after—cur—few?"

Ginny blinked. "Dumbledore's room," she yawned.

Hermione looked absolutely gob-smacked! Her eyes were wide and her jaw dropped. "What the fuck were you doing in there?!"

"I don't understand why you look so shocked," Ginny said stupidly. She sat up. "I just asked him to show me his pointy hat trick!"

Hermione's eyes bulged even more out of her head and her mouth seemed to be at it's maximum stretching point. "You what?!"

"I don't know why people make such a big deal about that trick," Ginny grumbled. "But I didn't get to see it. He showed me something _else_ though. He wasn't even dressed!"

Hermione was passed the shocked stage. She closed her mouth, squinted her eyes, and stared at Ginny. It took her a moment to comprehend what Ginny said and she did the only logical thing—

She laughed. Ginny stared, not understanding the punchline. "What's so funny?"

"Hahahahaha absolutely nothing, Gin." Hermione walked out and called over her shoulder, "You'd better hurry up! You don't want to be late for breakfast."

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At breakfast, everything seemed pretty normal. Ron shoveled food into his mouth, as did Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson (She was eating out her feelings because she put out but Malfoy refused), the Twins played pranks, Harry stared at Cho, Snape stared at each of his students individually and sneered, Malfoy caressed his bruised assets, Hermione had her nose stuck in a book about food, and Ginny couldn't look up at the Professors' table.

"Hey Gin!" Ron called with a full mouth. "Heard you were out after curfew last night! What were you doing?"

Ginny fought the urge to gag. "I just asked Dumbledore to show me the pointy hat trick."

The Great Hall went quiet. "That was kind of loud, huh?"

A collective nod went throughout the audience. Everyone stared at each other for a moment before laughing! They chuckled, she chortled, giggled, tittered, snickered ,and some guffawed. Many, however, totally LOL'd, LMAO'd, and ROFL'd.

"What the hell is so funny!?"

Fred and George went to either ear and whispered.

She screamed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you guys?! He's like a million years old!" No one could differentiate from Ginny's hair and face. "UGH you guys are so sick. It was bad enough that I have this image of him with NO PANTS but now I have to deal with that? Someone obliviate me. No, even better! Kill me now."

Ginny stormed out of the Great Hall. She stopped at the doorway. "Merlin, he'd need a whole lot of Viagra to do that!" She groaned, pulled at her hair, and continued stomping.

Everyone turned to Dumbledore. "What? It was _my_ bedroom. I can do whatever the hell I want!" he coughed. "Uhm, 10 points from Gryffindor."

_Rule 47; I will not ask Dumbledore to show me the pointy hat trick._

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**Hi, I just rode my bike three miles but it's not like you care!**

**Some people thought of this rule in quite a different way than I did so I decided to write this.**

**And I know.**

**I hate long author's notes too.  
**

**I like spaghetti, Mint-n-Chip Ice Cream, Green Tea Mochi**

**ANDANDAND**

**Reviews.**


	6. Rule 84

**This chapter's dedicated to Cuhmeel because she just turned a certain number of years old and I wanted to give her a nice present (even though this is long overdue.) Check out her stories! **

**Not my rules. Not my characters. Not my setting. **

**Yes, my plot.**

**Enjoy!**

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**Rule 84**

I cast a petrifying spell on them from behind so they wouldn't see me. Then I wrapped a piece of cloth over their eyes so they really couldn't see me. I was so excited for this plan to work, I could have giggled with delight, but giggling attracts a cousin of those pesky Nargles. I don't want a second rate version of those Nargles! I want the first rate, no exceptions. But I digress; I must finish what I started.

"Levicorpus," I whispered. I knew their ears could still detect sound. I know what people say about me; but honestly, I'm not loony! I'm perfectly normal.

It's everyone else who's off their rockers.

I had been preparing this little surprise for a few weeks now. No one knows about it, save for a few eavesdroppers in the washroom when I was talking it over in the mirror. The Ravenclaw girls gave me some strange looks which I returned with a smile. It seemed to scare them, because they walked away. And they call _me_ weird?! I was being polite and they just walk away.

Can you imagine that? You're minding your own business, talking to yourself in the mirror, and some abnormally large nosed girl and her little posse of other malformed creatures walk in and judge you with their beady eyes! It's discomforting, of course, but I didn't let it bother me. But seriously;

_I'm_ the weird one!?

I guess it's one of those things that I'll never understand.

This took a lot of planning. I had to figure out their schedules. I even followed the two (separately of course, they were hardly around each other) for a few days to get their routine memorized. They didn't seem to suspect a thing! There were days when they were walking alone where they would stop and turn around, but I'm a quick one! I was always far enough away to find a hiding spot.

I had been thinking about it for a while; it just interested me _so_ much. I heard some girls talking about it in the common room while I searched for Crumple Horned Snorkacks. I was listened so intently when they went on and on about what they wished would happen. I thought they were actually going to go on with it! But they separated and I was left completely alone to my thoughts.

I was not turned on by the fact that these girls wanted _those two boys _locked in a closet with each other. I have better things to do with my life besides drooling over boys. Imagine me looking you curiously in the eyes.

Or girls, you pervert.

When I realized they really weren't going to do it, I formed a plan of my own; _this_ plan that I was actually doing—by myself! It was quite simple; it only had six steps.

Step one—find Harry to petrify and blindfold him.

Step two—levitate him to the closet.

Step three—repeat step one, only on Malfoy.

Step four—repeat step two, only on Malfoy.

Step five—before closing the door, remove the spell from the pair.

Step six—lock the closet door and watch the magic happen from the peephole I made.

Very simple, don't you agree? I even brought my own snacks.

Oh! It's starting. Let me narrate the scene for you;

Harry took off the blindfold and fixed his glasses once I shut the door. It was a close one; he could've seen me! But good thing that he didn't. He groaned as he sat up. Hmm, maybe I should have been gentler with them.

Oh well! They'll never know it was me. I'm sneaky, like…like something really sneaky! I'm so clever. Malfoy shot up once the spell was lifted, but he freaked out and cried, "I'm blind! Dear Merlin, I've gone blind. Somebody help me!" Yeah, that's attractive. Harry chuckled.

"Take off the blindfold, genius." The blonde followed suit and opened his eyes. I left the closet lightly dimmed so it wasn't pitch black is it usually was, so Draco Malfoy didn't have much problem seeing Harry Potter across from him in the small space.

"What the hell are you doing in here, Potter?" the-Slytherin-commonly-known-as-Ferret spat. Harry raised a dark eye brow.

"I could ask the same of you," The-Chosen-One said simply. "But I think we've been kidnapped."

He was sort of right, right? I couldn't make any noises for fear of being discovered. "Kidnapped?!" Malfoy cried, appalled. "I know that I'm extremely attractive, but who the hell would stoop to the level of kidnapping? It's insane!" Why, in Merlin's beard, did everyone think I was insane!? I honestly don't get it. I _just_ petrified, blindfolded, and levitated two of my peers into a closet together to see if they would—

Shit, Snape just turned the corner. I really didn't want to miss any of the show, but I couldn't get caught! I ran behind a pillar, hoping the greasy haired, huge-nosed, albino skinned Potions' teacher didn't see me. He walked by and looked at the pillar. Drat, he saw me! But apparently, he didn't care much, as he didn't stop to reprimand me for standing by the pillar. I guess he thought it was completely normal.

I wish everyone thought I was completely normal; then I wouldn't have to deal with all their jokes and insults. I have feelings too, contrary to belief! I have as many feelings as Snape does, if not more! Snape seems like a very caring creature underneath all of that evil… and hair grease.

I returned to the peephole and saw that Harry and Malfoy were sitting back to back, with crossed legs and crossed arms. "How the hell do we get out of here?" Malfoy asked. "I'm getting claustrophobic."

Harry was facing the door, so I saw his eyes roll. "Stop being such a girl. Someone is bound to notice us missing."

"Of course people will notice my absence! I'm Draco Malfoy!"

Harry twisted his neck toward Malfoy. "Yeah, you're Draco Malfoy, the biggest git to ever walk the planet. Don't you think people would care more that _I'm_ gone? I'm The-Boy-Who-Lived!"

Wow, I thought. Conceited, much? I couldn't voice my opinion, but it didn't seem to matter. Malfoy beat me to it. "I didn't know you had you had a narcissistic side to you, _your highness._"

"You take advantage of it after a while. _You_ would know. But the only thing you have is your name. _I've_ actually done something, and I'm still in the process of doing something. You've got your father's money and that's it."

"Don't forget my good looks, scarhead."

"I would never forget those, ferret face."

"Glad you saw it my way, you wanker."

Harry's eyes went wide. "How'd you know!?"

Malfoy turned around. "How'd I know what?" He seemed like he didn't know what Harry was talking about. I had to stifle a giggle.

Harry turned red. "Oh, ahem. Nothing."

It finally dawned on Malfoy. "You whomp your willow!" he gasped.

"I do not!" Harry tried to cover up, but he was caught. Smart boy, he is.

"So you polish your wand?" The Slytherin was definitely enjoying it.

"What the hell, Malfoy?! No!" The Gryffindor, on the other hand, felt quite the opposite.

"Beat your bludger?" Malfoy wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh Merlin, Malfoy, just shut up!"

"One more!" Malfoy grinned evilly. It almost sounded seductive! "Do you tame your dragon?"

Harry stood up and so did Malfoy. Were they going to do it?! There was obvious sexual tension, especially after an argument like that! I almost squealed in delight. They stepped closer and closer to each other, eyes locked on each other, breathing hard, and faces angry. Almost there—

"Ahem." Oh crap. The deep tone of the sound made my heart beat quicken in terror. I didn't want to turn around, but I had no choice. I knew who it was. But why did he have to arrive at such a horrid time? It was just about to get interesting! I turned around to face my doom.

Severus Snape. "Snooping, are we?"

I gazed at him. I had to think of something... Anything! "I'm looking for Crumple-Horned Snokacks, sir. Would you like to lend a hand?" He raised an eyebrow, and his mouth seemed to be in a permanent sneer. I guess it's true, what an old teacher said. 'If you keep your face like that too long, it will get stuck like that.'

Poor Professor Snape.

"No, I'd rather not. What is inside the closet that is so damn interesting?" Suddenly, something inside the closet crashed. Yes! They were doing it! But I groaned inwardly. I was missing it because of Snape! He turned his head toward the door and took out his wand. "Let's take a look see."

He waved his wand and didn't say a word. Stupid wordless magic. Stupid show off Snape. Stupid stupid stupid! When the door flung open, I was disappointed. The two boys still had clothes on, and they were not putting a basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, if you catch my drift. Instead of the sight I planned for, Malfoy had a bloody lip, Harry had a bloody hand, and there were bruises on both the boys' faces.

Malfoy was stopped mid-punch. The Slytherin and the Gryffindor looked at Snape and me and pulled away instantly. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

Harry spoke first. "Someone locked us in here, Professor!"

"And you know how Potter and I aren't very fond of each other. It was bound to happen," continued Malfoy.

"It seems that this class mate of yours is the main suspect." The two boys glared at me.

"I can explain!" I confessed quickly. "I heard some girls talking and they said that it would be really great if someone locked Harry and Malfoy in a closet to figure out whether they would do _it_ and I was curious so I thought "What the hell? I might as well do it if no one else has the courage to so I did and boy, was it easy! But it ended so much differently than I had hoped and planned. But cut me some slack, it was a good plan, and it could have worked if you guys would pay less attention to the hostility and paid more attention to the obvious sexual tension you have between you! You are the only ones who don't see it and it was about time that you did, now aren't you glad that I risked life and limb to have you guys figure out your true love for each other?!" I managed to get that rant in a huge breath. The first response I got was three pairs of eyes staring at me, completely astonished.

Snape opened his mouth to speak, finally. "20 points from Ravenclaw and a week of detention with _anyone_ but me. As for you two boys," he said, turning to the bloodied and beaten pair, "You two get 15 points deduced from each of your Houses and detention _with_ me. But get to the hospital wing; I'm sure nobody would like it if you two walked around school in your hopeless condition." He silently walked away without another word.

Harry and Malfoy turned to me and I smiled. "Can I try my plan again?"

Malfoy and Harry looked at each other and nodded, as if they had come to some kind of silent agreement. Malfoy turned back to me and said one word that made me terrified for my life.

"Run."

_Rule 84; I am not allowed to lock Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy in a closet to see if hot gay sex will occur. _

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**Sorry for the late update. **

**Reviews are appreciated! :D**


	7. Rule 36

**Plot is mine. **

**Everything else is safely assumed to be someone else's.**

**The link to the rules is on my profile. Take a gander! Have a little laugh. **

**Enjoy. **

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**Rule 36**

Ron Weasley just _loved_ being a prefect. Even though everyone was completely amazed that he had gotten such an honorable position at school—even _he_ was amazed—he wanted to use this obvious muck up to his advantage. There were perks; slightly longer curfew, patrolling the grounds at night, and especially the Prefects' bath. Yes, the bath was his absolute _favorite_ part.

He lived with 5 brothers and a sister and no amount of bathrooms would _ever_ be enough for all nine family members. He _never_ got any privacy. Of course, Ron loved Hogwarts, and the Gryffindor dorms but it still wasn't enough privacy for him. He could actually relax in the Prefects' bath and he loved every moment he was in there.

There were, of course, a few knuckle heads, like him, who were awarded the Prefect badge who didn't deserve such an honor, but he could do nothing about it. Those knuckle heads had changed the password and it was unchangeable until the next Prefect meeting.

And that was in a week!

The password was horribly embarrassing and there always happened to be another Prefect around to hear him say the password. Honestly, had _everyone_ been named Prefect at the bloody school? Whatever, Ron thought. At least he had the Prefects' bath and that was good enough for him.

Ron could just imagine the pool-sized bathtub with the hundreds of sparkling faucets and jets just massaging his back. The peace and quiet was to _die_ for; he craved the alone time so much! The beautiful paintings watched him and he would watch back. It was all comforting and amazing. He almost loved everything about the room.

Especially the bubbles.

And he was not afraid to admit it. It was an extremely girly, feminine, and almost homosexual thing to say, but still, he loved the bubbles. Again; he loves almost everything about the room!

Except the password.

"Just let me in!" Ron yelled to the portrait when he arrived to his destination. The woman in said portrait merely grinned.

"You know the rules, Ginger," she said sweetly. "Password, if you please."

"But you know who I am," he argued. "You _know_ that I know the password. I've been here every other night! I _hate_ the password."

Suddenly, Professor Snape was next to Ron. _Oh Merlin, his greasy hair almost touched me!! _He thought. _Now I really need that bath…_

"Weasley," Snape drawled in his monotonous and annoying voice. "Why are you yelling at this poor portrait?"

Ron rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath. "Would you care to repeat that, Mr. Weasley?"

He mumbled it again, only just a tad louder. Still, it was incoherent. "Repeat that again in English before I force it out of you."

"I want to get to my bloody bubbles, Snape, now get off my red back hair!" he yelled. Snape's eyes grew wide in annoyance, slight amusement, and disturbance. _There is something terribly wrong with the children at this school…_ Snape thought. He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Bubbles?" the professor asked with a hint of humor in his dark and deep voice.

Ron tried to keep his emotions in check. _Breathe in and breathe out, _Ron thought._ You do not need to go back to those anger management classes Hermione sent you to last summer…_ "Yes, Professor. _Bubbles._ I would like to take a bath in this particular room but the password is more than unacceptable."

Professor Snape let out an evil laugh and matched it with an equally evil smile. "Ahh yes, the password of the week. The whole staff has been going on and on about that one. I heard most students don't even take a bath in there; they just want to say the password and leave."

"Well apparently, I'm different, and I'm in desperate need of a bath."

"I'll say…" Snape muttered.

Ron glared at him. "What was that?"

"Nothing, Weasley," he shrugged off. "Go ahead and say the password, boy. It's not going to kill you."

"What?!" Ron cried. "You want _me_ to say the _password_ in front of _you!? _Are you mad?!"

"Are you implying something, child?"

"I don't know, Snape. What do you think!?"

"Why you little…!"

"Stop!" the woman in the portrait interrupted. The two males stared at her for a moment before returning to their argument.

"Are you trying to tell me that you think I'm insane?"

"Maybe! So what if I am?"

"If you are, then I'll take away so many points that every generation of Gryffindor will be affected!"

"It's not as if I'm the first one to call you crazy to your face, Snape. Come on!"

"I'll do it. So help me, I will do it," he threatened murderously. Ron backed away.

"Fine, fine. I'm sorry, I'll behave. Will you leave now?"

Snape smirked. "I'll leave once you say the password to the bath."

Ron's brow furrowed. "I'm sure that's illegal in some way or another…" he murmured.

"What was that?" Snape asked. Ron panicked.

"Oh, nothing! I said that I'd feel more comfortable if you weren't here."

"Well then, I'll take as many points off from Gryffindor as needed—"

"Wait!" Ron finally cried. "I'll do it."

The woman in the portrait clapped happily. "Yes! This is my favorite part." She cleared her throat. "Password!"

Ron hesitated for a moment. He turned to Snape and noticed him smirking. He was quite ugly when he did that; it wasn't that he wasn't ugly when he was sneering, but he was even more unappealing when he was making a face that was evenly remotely close to happiness. His almost albino, pasty skin was such a contrast to his greasy black hair that seemed to be dripping in oil. _Ugh, disgusting._ His black eyes were boring into his, waiting for him to say the password. There was something definitely wrong with the professor. Maybe he taught at this mad school for too long… He turned back to the portrait and said;

"Makes getting clean almost as much fun as getting dirty." He shut his eyes and listened to the woman and Snape—and surprisingly a lot of other students in the hallway—doubling over into laughter. "This is why I hate the bloody password! Next week, we're changing it to something better, like 'Snape is a buffoon with long greasy hair and needs a bath of his own!" He stomped into the room and shut the portrait before Snape could react to his comment.

Ron sighed and leaned against a wall. He was in there for barely a minute before he heard a knock at the door. "Weasley." The voice was muffled, but it was still distinguishable. Snape. "15 points from Gryffindor for that last comment. But 5 points _to_ Gryffindor for giving me a good laugh."

Finally. He was alone and could enjoy his alone time in the bath.

He turned on all of the taps and waited for the tub to fill. He poured in another liquid and watched in amazement as the tub filled with his favorite things in the whole entire world. When the bath was finished being prepared, Ron jumped in screaming, "Bubbles!"

It was a shame that Ron Weasley didn't notice that there were more than a few students listening in from the portrait, giggling from his battle cry.

Poor Ron Weasley. Some felt bad for him the next morning at breakfast when he walked into the Great Hall.

Someone had filled the room with bubbles.

That morning was the reddest anyone had seen the Weasley boy.

Poor Ron Weasley.

_Rule 36; I will not change the password to the prefects' bathroom to "Makes getting clean almost as much fun as getting dirty."_

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**I'm going to be completely honest here; I'm greatly disappointed in the number of reviews I get. It isn't enough motivation for me. I'm extremely happy that so many of you like my story-I'm glad you even read it!-and that you favorite and alert it, but it's the reviews that keep me going. It's the reviews and praise (or critiques) that keeps me writing and updating. I haven't given up hope! I know you can do it. **

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	8. Rule 66

**Oh yeah, I'm a teenage Asian girl who relies on the parents for cash. DO I SOUND LIKE JK ROWLING TO YOU?**

**Enjoy. **

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**Rule 66**

Snape sat in his black chair behind his black desk in his black classroom in the black dungeon wearing his black dress robes to match his black hair, black eyes and black heart. He hated Sirius Black. People believed his soul was black. The sky was black at night. Black roses were the best. He loved the color black, which was odd because he didn't love many things; but it wasn't as if many things loved him… Why wasn't that Black Dahlia murder solved? He had a best friend who was black! No racial.

Random thoughts stumbled into his mind. What was the weather like outside of the dungeon? Why was it so damp down here? Why does everyone hate me? Hmm. He touched his greasy hair. He had been saying for the past week, "I need to take a bath!" but he never got around to doing it. Oh well, he could get to it later.

Unless he forgot again…

"Is five inches long?" he asked himself aloud. It was unfortunate, however, that he was inside a full classroom of sick-minded teenagers.

The class doubled over at the question and he was confused. Sure, he was a dark, cold, bitter, stupid, evil, hated, traitorous, depressed... What were we talking about? Oh right. How, in Merlin's name, was that question funny?

Someone in the back of the classroom decided to be smart and yelled, "Your "wand" must be pretty small, Snape!" It sounded like Finnegan! There was no mistaking that Irish accent. He would punish him for sure. Everyone clutched their sides harder, except for Hermione who looked up from her book to mutter, "Immature sods" to herself in her "I'm too smart for this" tone of voice.

Killjoy!

Severus raised an eyebrow. What did that have to do with anything? "My wand is a lot longer than five inches, Finnegan." The children gagged, laughed, and spat in disgust.

"Too much information, sir!" cried Lavender Brown, covering her face in shame.

Snape was thoroughly confused. "I was just correcting Mr. Finnegan, Miss Brown." He turned to the class. "What is wrong with all of you?"

Heads turned to one another, some still snickering. They had silent conversations with each other right before his eyes and he still did not understand what the hell was so funny.

No matter, he thought. Legilimency was always a great spell.

Snape's eyes positively popped out of their sockets. Honestly, the minds on these children! Tiny brains were bad enough, but they were filled with absolutely filthy thoughts. "That's not what I meant, you idiots!" he growled. A bell indicated that class was over, and Snape sighed in relief. "Your essays are due tomorrow. Turn it in tomorrow, or don't turn it in at all. I don't accept late work. Now leave, you pathetic children."

It was lunch time. Snape glided to the Great Hall for nourishment. But maybe he should've taken that shower first… Oh well, he can do it later, if he remembered. Walking to the Professor's table was always an interesting trip. Students always stared at him like he was some circus act!

He was not a bearded lady, a dude with a dummy, or a lion tamer, so what was so interesting about him? Honestly, he was just a normal potions teacher. But no! Everyone had to judge him.

Snap had feelings too! But that was _apparently _too hard to believe. He finally reached his seat and sat down. He plated some food, and tried to stomach it down when the owls came hooting in. He looked up and saw his own black owl flying towards him! Funny, he never got mail.

His owl dropped a box onto his head with a clunk! He picked it up from the floor where it landed. It was a regular brown box with no name on it. There was a note attached, however. It read;

"_**Severus Snape;**_

_**You need this."**_

Maybe it was the raise he had been asking for! Or maybe it was his new cloak. Maybe it was his subscription to Sexy Wizards Weekly that Minerva promised to purchase for him! If it was the last option, he'd have to wait until later to open his piece of mail. He took his box and left the table.

Snape was never a patient man.

He hated the fact that he couldn't apparate on school grounds. He was out of breath by the time he was back to his room. Snape was severely out of shape; even more so than Umbridge, and _that_ was saying something.

Once he was safe inside the confines of his dreadful, but homey, bedroom, he ripped open the package.

"_Please be Sexy Wizards Weekly, please be Sexy Wizards Weekly…"_ he whispered.

His hopeful half-smile dissipated into a frown, which transformed into a sneer, which morphed into a full on hateful facial contortion.

"What the hell is the meaning of this!?" He shoved the contents of his mail into his pocket and stormed gracefully to his classroom, radiating more evil and anger than usual. Students cowered in fear. Snape took advantage of his legilimency and read the minds of each of his students. Most thoughts were similar. "What's got Snape's wand in a knot?" "Snape looks constipated." "Oh my god, Cedric Diggory's so cute!"

Stupid teenage hormones. After reading over a hundred minds, he caught one person in his last hour of class.

"Weasley!" Snape screamed. He caught the student off guard, and he jumped out of his seat, onto his feet.

"Yes, sir!" the boy wimpered. Snape pulled out the mail from his pocket and threw it onto the table.

"Did _you_ put this in my mail?" he asked darkly. The boy began to perspire profusely, and his hands shook. "Well?!" The boy didn't open his mouth. What a fool. "There's no use lying, Longbottom. Just tell me the damned truth!"

"Fine!" Neville cried. "I sent you the bloody shampoo." Snape grunted as the rest of the class watched in awe. "But it was for your own good. You need to take a bath, you filthy man. Have you _smelled _yourself lately?!" Neville's peers laughed, and Snape's face turned red from anger.

Snape was shocked, embarrassed, and ashamed for a split second, but he recovered. He sneered. "I will not tolerate any back talk, Mr. Longbottom. 50 points from Gryffindor and detention for a week."

Neville returned to his seat muttering, "If he takes a bath, then this detention better be worth it…" His classmates applauded and cheered for Neville.

Snape gritted his teeth, and glared at his "wonderful" students. He finally spat, "Class dismissed." When the last person left his classroom, he grabbed the shampoo. _Selsun Blue. Hmph. _He stood up and tossed the blue bottle into the rubbish bin.

He'd bathe whenever he wanted; he didn't need to please anyone.

_Rule 66; It is inappropriate to slip sample bottles of Selsun Blue into Professor Snape's personal postbox._


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